


lives lost, life's worth

by Mayarene Rose (Paradise_of_Mary_Jane)



Series: Whumptober 2019 [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Grieving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-01 13:17:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20815796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paradise_of_Mary_Jane/pseuds/Mayarene%20Rose
Summary: They had to drag Arthur away, in the end. Lock him in his quarters as they built the pyre and lit it. It was the only way they could stop him, and even then, they had to knock him out. Later, Gwen tells him through sobs that he didn’t scream, didn’t even make a sound. He could have been sleeping. The last look he gave was directed at Gaius, she said, and it had been a gentle, sad smile.





	lives lost, life's worth

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6: Dragged Away

They captured him in the night. 

Arthur was there. He saw those blue eyes widen in terror. He saw the way he screamed for Arthur, told him to stay away, told him not to interfere.

Arthur had seen red. 

He charged towards them with a cry. 

\--

It hadn’t meant anything. There were too many and the person they captured had already given up. There was no saving someone like that.

They had to drag Arthur away, in the end. Lock him in his quarters as they built the pyre and lit it. It was the only way they could stop him, and even then, they had to knock him out. Later, Gwen tells him through sobs that he didn’t scream, didn’t even make a sound. He could have been sleeping. The last look he gave was directed at Gaius, she said, and it had been a gentle, sad smile.

It sounded so much like him and not him at the same time that Arthur could scream. He could see it whenever he closed his eyes: a comfort for the people he loves and stubborn, spiteful silence for the king who burned him. They wanted him to die screaming so he gave them his peace.

And countless apologies for Arthur, murmured in his mind. If he shed any tears at all, if the fire hadn’t taken it all away, it would have been for Arthur.

His father hadn’t released him from his quarters. He hadn’t spoken since, hadn’t eaten. Had barely moved from his spot in front of the fireplace, watching the fire crackle and burn.

He watches it burn.

Watches it burn and burn and burn.

\--

_“Why did you give up?”_

_“I wanted you safe. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”_

_“They killed you.”_

_“Someone was bound to.”_

_“That’s not funny.”_

_“It’s not is it? Does it matter? I’m gone and you’re not. It’s time to move on, Arthur.”_

_“You can’t just ask me to do that.”_

_“‘Course I can. Perks of being dead. You have to respect my wishes.”_

_“How can you--How can you expect me to move on after what happened to you?”_

_“You just do. You’re meant to do great things, Arthur. I’m not letting my own death stop that, you clotpole.”_

\--

Arthur hears his voice sometimes. That’s not quite right. It’s not like he’s going mad. It’s more like he senses his presence, that quiet warmth that he hadn’t noticed before it was gone. Sometimes, he’d turn, ready with a cheeky retort, except there’s no one there to laugh at him. His room is tidy and his bed perpetually made. Sometimes, in the spaces between moments, he remembers a space that actually felt lived in.

During the times he actually manages to fall asleep, his dreams are strange. He haunts Arthur’s dreams. It’s comforting, more than anything else, which probably says a lot about his state of mind.

_You can’t go on like this, Arthur, _he keeps saying.

_I’m sorry, _is all Arthur can bring himself to say. _I couldn’t save you._

_No, _he says. _But I’m not the only one you can save._

_I’m sorry._

_You’re the Once and Future King, _he says. _Prove yourself worthy._

\--

Gaius tells him everything: the prophecy, the magic, the people who wanted to kill him living right under his nose. The knowledge makes Arthur angry. It makes him want to rage and destroy and scream.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” he demands. “Why did he think he could just leave me like this?”

And it wasn’t fair to put all of that on Gaius, but Arthur didn’t have anything else.

“Was anything ever true with him?” Arthur asks. “Did we have anything real at all?”

Gaius doesn’t answer, just looks at him, and it was enough for Arthur to break down in sobs in his arms.

“I can’t be the man he wanted me to be,” he says.

“Try Arthur,” and Arthur’s not sure if it was Gaius or the wind who said it.

\--

Arthur haunts the halls of Camelot. He doesn’t speak to his father anymore and his father is wise enough to never try to speak to him about magic. He must have noticed. Something in Arthur died while he burned on the pyre. There’s no getting it back. He might have loved his father once, but now, when he looks at him, all he sees is fire.

(_Be kind to your people Arthur. They look up to you._

_He always told me kindness is weakness._

_Do you still believe that?_

_People who are kind tend to die. _You died, he doesn’t say. But it wasn’t their fault they died. It wasn’t his fault he died.Their blood is always on cruel men’s hands. Arthur’s known enough cruel men and he’s seen enough kindness burned out of existence before it could make a difference.

It makes him angry, knowing that the world could be kind but no one would let it. Too many people have died in the name of strength and they all just let it happen.

_Be kind, Arthur. It makes you strong. It makes you wise._)

\--

Oddly enough, he grows closer with Morgana. He learns of her magic and is too numb to feel surprised.

“He tried to save me,” she tells him. “He was the one who sent me to the Druids. Of course, you and Uther ruined it in the end.”

“He kept a lot of secrets,” Arthur says. Would things have been different, if he’d known from the beginning. The fact that he doesn’t have an answer is probably its own condemnation.

“Did he have a choice?” Morgana shoots back.

Arthur didn’t really have anything to say to that.

_There’s a destiny waiting for you. _

“What are you gonna do now?” Morgana asks. Challenges. He wonders if she hears his voice, too.

“I’m going to be better,” Arthur says.

\--

Eventually, his father dies in his sleep, and Arthur ascends to the throne. By the time he does, they haven’t spoken properly in years. Morgana is at his side and she tells him that Camelot’s future shines gold. He legalizes magic and no one dares question it.

He dreams of a world where Gwen was his queen sometimes, but it was also a world where he didn’t burn. It might have happened in another life. In this one, there is only grief that lingers in the spaces between them.

Camelot changes and magic returns to the land but the halls are still cold.

Arthur still sees fire whenever he closes his eyes.

Sometimes, he hears his voice lingering in the air, but whenever he turns, he’s alone.

His ghost may never truly leave the city.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, your comments give me life.


End file.
